


Playing With Fire

by Ravenhoot



Series: This Isn't How Their Story Goes [2]
Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Enemy Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Swearing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, vfd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17557643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenhoot/pseuds/Ravenhoot
Summary: Kit bumps into Olaf while on a mission and their passion for one another is reignited. Set a few months before the Baudelaire fire.Or, the one where Kit and Olaf have a steamy impromptu rendezvous.This fic fits intoA Fox Among the Freaks. It's listed as a separate fic due to the explicit rating.





	Playing With Fire

They had encountered one another by accident. Kit had attended the opening night of a new theater production. An associate was supposed to meet with her during the third act to provide crucial information on where the trained eagles were nesting. All they needed were the whistles and the birds would be back under their control once more.

When she had first taken her seat and skimmed through the program, she’d been surprised to see Olaf’s name among the cast. The play had garnered quite a bit of media attention and had gotten rave reviews during its soft opening. Kit felt guilty for admitting to herself that she’d assumed he wouldn’t have made the final casting for such a... successful production. He was, in truth, a decent actor when he didn’t try so hard. It was when he over exaggerated his parts or tried to force a plot that didn’t work that ruined him.

After her rendezvous with her associate, she had considered leaving quietly... but something made her stay. She didn’t want to admit it, but it had been somewhat exhilarating to see him on stage. He’d looked so... happy. A sight she’d thought had been lost since the night those poison darts had been thrown. She’d decided to stay and watch the play til the end. On the stairs, she saw another associate purely by chance, who convinced her to attend the production’s reception in the ballroom on the main floor.

It was there that they’d literally bumped into each other. She’d been holding her brandy sidecar in one hand and had turned to wave at Mrs. Quagmire when she spun and collided with someone.

“So sorry, please excuse...” She’d apologized automatically, but she’d trailed off when she was looking eye to eye... at him.

“You!” He’d declared in surprise.

“And you,” she’d returned, brushing at the spot on her dress where the cocktail had spilled.

They’d stood facing one another for an awkward moment. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Kit couldn’t take it any longer.

“You were excellent tonight,” she blurted.

“You were out there?” Olaf had replied with surprise.

When Kit nodded, he smiled ruefully. “I assumed you were just here on a mission.” His smile turned up slyly. He knew better than to think she was just out for a social evening.

“Well, nothing says I can’t mix business with pleasure,” she said without thinking.

Olaf had raised his eyebrow at her. “Is that so?”

She’d rolled her eyes and pushed his shoulder lightly with her fist. “You know what I mean. I was already here and the reviews were promising. I decided to stay and actually watch the show.”

“That’s your story?”

“And I’m sticking to it,” Kit confirmed.

“Mmhmm,” Olaf mused. “So it has nothing to do with the fact that you never missed an opening night?”

“Is this opening night?” Kit had asked, feigning ignorance. “I didn’t even realize...”

“Pfft, and they say I’m a shit actor,” Olaf had teased her.

She’d looked up at him with a sarcastic retort but when their eyes met, she forgot what she’d been intending to say. She managed a weak smile as she remembered dozens of nights just like this one, before the schism, before everything had gone so terribly wrong. She knew he still resented Beatrice for throwing that dart, accident or not. But bumping into him so suddenly and unexpectedly... she had been able to forget, even if it was just for a moment, how topsy-turvy everything had gone. As he was moving closer to her, she even temporarily forgot that they were on opposite sides of the schism.

“Can we be civil for an evening?” Kit had asked. “For old time’s sake?”

He’d leaned in so closely, she could feel his breath against her ear when he whispered, “Let’s go somewhere less crowded.”

She had weakly glanced around to see if she saw anyone she knew before accepting his hand. He’d begun to lead her to the front door, but Kit had insisted otherwise.

“Not outside. Too crowded.”

“Kit, it’s the opening night of a brand new play, everywhere is crowded.”

Kit pursed her lips as she thought for a moment. The play had opened alongside a brand new hotel. The playhouse was connected to the hotel via the ballroom, where they currently were. Kit wondered at the wisdom of what she was about to do for only a second. She shrugged and remembered her brother’s words about acting first and getting scared later.

She pulled him in the direction of the hotel lobby on the other side of the ballroom.

“The hotel?” Olaf had asked in confusion.

“My room is on the fourteenth floor,” Kit mumbled.

“Why do you need a hotel room? Don’t you have an apartment just a few blocks from here?”

“Not anymore. I’m not stationed in the city anymore,” Kit had replied vaguely.

Once in the elevator, Olaf gave her a serious glance and asked, “What else has changed?”

“In almost fifteen years, O? A lot,” she’d said with a smirk.

Olaf had rolled his eyes and looked out of the glass wall of the elevator. That had been a mistake. He’d immediately gotten lightheaded and Kit, remembering his fear of heights, took his hand and squeezed gently. She hadn’t even thought about it first - instinct had just taken over. She’d felt him squeeze her hand in return and she didn’t let go until the elevator made a soft ding when they reached her floor.

Once they arrived to Kit’s modest hotel room, she slipped her shoes and her shawl off. Olaf had come up behind her, silently as a shadow. He pressed a soft, warm kiss to the spot where her shoulder met her neck.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured quietly.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Kit said without any conviction in her tiny voice.

Olaf kissed further up her neck. “You’re probably right.”

“We’re enemies,” Kit said weakly.

“Are we?” Olaf purred, his lips still lingering against her neck. “You’re the one who said you were mixing business with pleasure.”

Kit made a soft sound of protest that she didn’t really mean. In her mind, she told herself it was just for self-preservation... so that later when she thought about this night, she could have a clear conscious knowing she’d at least tried to resist... That’s a line of complete bullshit, Kit told herself.

Olaf slipped his hands around her waist and with his mouth pressed to her ear, he’d whispered, “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“Don’t you dare,” Kit warned.

Olaf growled softly into her hair. Kit let out a tiny moan of desire. She shouldn’t want him. Not after everything he’d done. After everything you’ve heard he’s done, she corrected herself. Olaf’s hands roamed from her waist up to her breasts. He caressed every inch of her as if he was recommitting her figure to memory. As if he needed to - even after so many years apart, he seemed to recall just how to touch her to send her mind into overdrive.

She leaned her head back against his shoulder. He was so much taller than her that he could lean over and kiss her without having to turn her around to face him. She parted her mouth,  thinking once more, get scared later, and savored the moment his tongue found hers.

Kit’s stomach lurched in anticipation when he slid one hand beneath the hem of her skirt. His hand passed over her soft curls and deft fingers found her core. She shuddered slightly as he parted her folds and slid two fingers inside her. He was surprised to discover how wet she was. Kit moved her hips slightly to match the motion of Olaf’s fingers. His own desire pressed against her hip and when she reached behind her to give him a light squeeze, he groaned earnestly. Kit tugged on his arm and he retracted his hand.

She turned around so that she was facing him. Olaf’s waistcoat was already unbuttoned; Kit hastily scrambled to get the buttons of his Oxford shirt undone. She kissed him hungrily, lightly biting his lip and eliciting another carnal groan of desire. She unclasped his belt, only taking her mouth off his long enough to slide his trousers down. Olaf backed her up against the dresser. She hoisted herself onto it and wrapped her legs around his waist. Kit wound one hand through his hair and pulled him closer to her. Any moment that his lips weren’t on hers was a moment wasted. It was a dance their mouths knew well, despite the years they’d been apart from one another. Kit undid the buttons of her own blouse as Olaf moved from her mouth down to her collarbone, settling with taking one of her perfect breasts into his mouth. He took her erect nipple between his teeth and returned his fingers to her warm center. He moved his mouth to her other breast as his fingers slid in and out of her.

Kit licked her palm and grasped him firmly. The sharp hitch of his breath made Kit grin wickedly. She stroked him slowly at first and only when she’d matched the speed of his fingers did he suddenly grasp her hand and pull her away.

“Wha—”

“Been a while, my little fox.”

Kit grinned again at the use of his nickname for her. It had been years since she’d heard it pass his lips.

Rather than return his fingers to her slick folds, he pushed her skirt completely up until it was bunched around her waist. He peeled her panties down her hips and thighs and she kicked them off. Olaf kneeled down, placing his palms against Kit’s thighs and spreading her legs wider. Kit threw her head back and let out an audible moan when he pressed his mouth against her crease. He gripped her thighs tightly as he explored her folds with his tongue. Her legs trembled slightly when his tongue found her arousal. Kit dug her hands into Olaf’s hair and as he continued to flick his tongue over her swollen mound, she found herself moving both her hips and his head to achieve the rhythm that would send her over the edge.

“Oh,” she gasped.

“What?” He responded, slightly breathless. He didn’t wait for her reply before returning his mouth to her sweet center. He gripped her hips and pulled her closer to the edge of the dresser.

“Not, you O,” she clarified with a swift giggle. “Oh, as in… oh!” She leaned back and exclaimed again as Olaf slid his fingers back into her while continuing to ravage her with his mouth.

“O, I’m close!”

Olaf abruptly withdrew his fingers and his mouth, leaving her moaning in protest. “You are wicked!”

Kit pushed him backwards onto a small chaise lounge where normally, a second bed would be. She straddled him, resting her knees against the soft plush chaise and quivering with an aching desire as she felt him pressing against her entrance. She raised herself on her knees when Olaf grasped her wrist.

“I’m warning you… it’s been… a while.”

“I won’t hold it against you,” Kit assured him.

She lowered herself onto him and they both let out sighs of pleasure as he entered her. Kit rocked her hips as she rode him. Olaf moved in time with her and she couldn’t remember anything ever feeling this good. She brought her mouth down on his shoulder, biting slightly. Olaf groaned, whether in pain or pleasure, Kit wasn’t sure… possibly both. She continued to rock against him; her thigh muscles burned but she didn’t stop. Olaf gripped her hips tightly and pulled her against him. Kit rotated her hips slightly just as Olaf thrust his forward.

“Oh, O!” Kit breathed.

“Me, O?”

“Yes, you, O!” Kit yelled. “Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop!”

Kit held her breath as her climax built. She cried out in ecstasy as her release erupted. She continued to rock her hips as shockwaves passed through her. Olaf was breathing heavily and had thrown his head back. Kit leaned forward and nibbled on his earlobe.

“Oh, goddamn you,” he groaned.

Kit raised herself up on her knees and bobbed methodically. Olaf took hold of her hips once more and adjusted her rhythm. His mouth had gone dry but he still managed to croak her name as his own release came crashing over him. They clung to one another for a moment, neither trusting themselves to stand. Finally, once her breathing had steadied and she no longer had the pounding of her own heartbeat throbbing in her ears, she eased off of him and collapsed onto the adjacent bed.

Olaf allowed himself another moment to recover feeling in his lower legs and stood up shakily. He pulled up his trousers, zipped and buttoned them, and opened the top left dresser drawer. He extracted the bottle of red wine and gave Kit an appreciative smile.

“After all these years, your hotel habits haven’t changed, I see.”

“At this point, it’s a superstition,” Kit explained with a shrug. “Can’t break it now.”

“May I?” Olaf gestured to the bottle.

“You’re the only one I’d drink it with,” she said, slightly sheepishly.

“What?” Olaf asked, surprised. “So all the times you stay in a hotel room alone… or not… you just bring a bottle of Shiraz and never open it?”

“Haven’t been able to yet… doubt I ever will,” Kit answered honestly.

Olaf maneuvered the corkscrew with precision and poured equal shares into two standard hotel cups. He tapped the edge of the paper cup against Kit’s and took a larger sip than was appropriate for wine.

“Ah,” he said smacking his lips together. He glanced at the bottle and gave Kit another sideways glance. “Thirty-nine, same year we used to drink. What did you do, buy a case of it?”

“That’s the same bottle I’ve had for nearly fifteen years, O,” Kit explained. “I told you, you’re the only one I’ll drink it with.”

“Well, whatdya make of that,” he said, more to himself than anything.

They finished the bottle of wine and by the time they’d reached the bottom, they were laughing and teasing each other as if the past fifteen years had never happened.

Kit glanced at the clock by the bed and saw it was after midnight. She wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the sudden realization of how late it had gotten, but exhaustion hit her like a freight train.

“You look tired, little fox,” Olaf observed.

“I just realized how late it is. I’ve got to be… um, outside the city by noon.” She’d been about to say “headquarters” but remembered suddenly that despite anything that had happened in the past couple hours, he was an enemy of VFD. She hated that it had to be so.

“I better let their best field agent get some sleep then,” Olaf remarked, not even trying to hide the regret.

“You could stay?”

“What, forever?” Olaf mused. “That ship sailed, my dear. A long time ago. We both know that.”

Kit nodded. “Just tonight, then?”

Olaf considered. “Everything that just happened… was that you or was that VFD?”

Kit saw the uncertainty in his eyes and she hated that she was the cause of it. If the world had been kinder, they’d be celebrating almost fifteen years of marriage, possibly have a few children… but instead, they had met by chance as enemies and set aside their differences to reunite as lovers once more.

“Olaf, my mission ended during the third act in that theater. Everything since then has been just me.”

“You didn’t have to stay til the end of the play?”

“No,” she replied honestly.

“But you did.”

“I did.”

“You never cease to amaze me, little fox… Okay, just tonight.” He kicked his trousers back off where they lay crumpled in a heap.

Kit nestled in beside him and hated herself for how much she enjoyed the feeling of his arm wrapped around her. She fell asleep almost instantly, such was her exhaustion. She woke two hours later to find Olaf shaking violently. She shook him gently and he awoke with a start. The look on his face begged her not to ask, so she didn’t. She could almost guarantee she knew what haunted his dreams, for they haunted hers as well. Still, she didn’t breathe a word, she just let him hold her tightly.

He kissed the side of her head… and then her mouth. She kissed him back -  for all she knew, this may be the last time they looked upon one another without bitterness or contempt. He wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and she draped one leg over his. Kit thought how everything that evening had been so unlike her, including her desire quickening so soon after satiating it. She suspected it was the subconscious knowledge that when they departed from that room, it was a real possibility that they may never see the other again.

Kit swallowed heavily as she felt the heat that was growing from below her abdomen. She practically throbbed with arousal as she took him in her hand and guided his length to her entrance. Olaf slipped into her, her sex already wet. He began to slowly thrust against her. Kit moved with him, their tempo perfectly matching each other’s. Whereas earlier that night, they had been primal and animalistic in their frenzied desire for each other, this was the slow, passionate lovemaking that wasn’t rushed. Kit adjusted her leg above his, allowing him to penetrate her deeper. She breathed his name while her mouth was pressed against his neck. Olaf growled softly as he came, something he had not expected to happen twice in the same night.  He reached between them and gently thrummed the tip of his finger over her mound. Her breathing was punctuated by gasps of pleasure as he continued to stimulate her until she couldn’t breathe. Such was the intensity of her orgasm that for a moment, stars danced before her eyes. The tight pulsing of her climax while he was still inside her made Olaf gasp for breath.

He rolled over onto his back.

“Fuck, Kit… I’m about to say to hell with them all and whisk you away somewhere they’ll never find you.”

“I hear Spain is nice this time of year,” Kit remarked slyly. “Well… let’s have it then.”

“What?” Olaf asked.

“Our last kiss,” Kit replied with a rueful sigh.

Olaf just shook his head. He leaned over, gave her a long, deliberate kiss, and rolled back over. “Now you really ought to get some sleep or you’ll be dead on your feet tomorrow.”

“Oh, and that wasn’t it,” Olaf added.

“What?”

“Our last kiss,” Olaf answered. “Mark my words, I’ll kiss you one last time.”

“Is that so?” Kit asked with a smirk.

“Stake your life on it, Snicket.”

He was gone when she woke up. Sticking out of the top of the empty wine bottle was a piece of hotel stationary that had been wedged in haphazardly.

The note read: _I was serious about that last kiss, little fox._

Kit smirked and tossed the note aside. Once she’d packed her few belongings, she gave the room a once-over to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She eyed the note next to the trash bin on the floor. She had a quick change of mind as she tucked the note and the empty wine bottle into her bag and let the door swing shut behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> If you follow the timeline [here](http://68.media.tumblr.com/7a48a3a1a756000ae30578b0bb54a78d/tumblr_ojkxhcxVXm1qb0ueio1_1280.jpg), the entire course of events from The Bad Beginning to the day Kit gives birth on the island is just over 4 months. So it's perfectly plausible for Kit's baby to be Olaf's. Sorry I won't change my mind.


End file.
